


Blankets

by spiegelkabinett



Series: Between the hours [1]
Category: Arthurian Mythology & Adaptations - All Media Types, Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiegelkabinett/pseuds/spiegelkabinett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The winters are quite cold in Camelot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blankets

Camelot was coated with tons of snow and the cold trembled in the air, making every move outside a statement of an immediate death-wish.  
Merlin shivered beneath his thin blankets; he owned two of them, but that wasn't helping. There was no way to use magic that night – Uther had acquired a magic-detector from a suspicious-looking Teutonic fellow a few days earlier. And Merlin had no intentions to check its accuracy right now.

His shivering was so impetuous that he feared his teeth would shatter.  
“Oh, damn!”, he murmured suddenly – trying to sleep was of no use. Especially since he wasn't sure whether he would be alive in the morning or a rolled-up ice-statue.

He stood up and took the blankets with him, passing through Gaius' chamber (the bastard was in the South; “visiting a cousin” he had said and then left before the first snow storm, with no firewood left over for Merlin) Aimlessly, he wandered through the castle, searching for a warmer place than his chamber.

No wonder his path led him to Arthur's door. He sighed, looking at the wooden texture as if it was to blame for the cool temperature (and other things). He could vividly (but not vividly enough) imagine how warm it would be behind it. He had lighted the fire earlier this evening himself, after Arthur had stumbled into the room, slightly drunk after a festive evening serving no other purpose as giving the court members some distraction from the icy cold.

“For God’s sake, Merlin! It's freezing in here! Is it that difficult to light the fire before I come back to my room? Pray, let me ask: On a scale ranging from one to one dozen, how dumb are you?” Arthur had grumbled, eyeing Merlin while kicking off his shoes and looking for his night tunic. Merlin had handed him the fabric and answered slightly annoyed: “Can I choose six? Because I'm not sure if the dozen or the one would classify me as the dumbest idiot in the castle – Saving some space for the Prince, who comes always first and foremost, Sire.”  
Without waiting for an answer, Marlin had dashed hastily to the fireplace. Behind his back, Arthur had murmured something incomprehensible, but let the matter drop without further insults. A good sign, Merlin had thought. Arthur had been a merry pin this evening, compared to his behavior in the previous weeks.

Warmth spread through Merlin's stomach, when he recapitulated the earlier evening. Amazing, how close he came to like that princeling-bastard. If he was honest – and he allowed himself the luxury to do so – he did not look for the warmth of the fireplace in Arthur's room. His head sank onto the wooden door and made a knocking sound.

“Yes?” hissed a voice, drowsy and alarmed, from the inside. Merlin jumped back. Fuck, he thought, no time to escape the prince, trained for battlefield, ready to hop out of bed in seconds.

“What's the matter?” Arthur sounded more awake than before. Better get this over with, Merlin thought, when he's fully awake he will most certainly put me in the stocks and let me freeze my arse off. He entered the chamber.

The warmth hit him hard, making his whole body tremble like hundred of needles piercing him simultaneously. “Ehr,” he said to Arthur, who sat in his bed, one leg already swung to the ground as if to run out if his presence was needed to save Camelot, “Is everything okay? With.. with the fire?” They both glanced across the room. The fire was fine, like every evening.

“Merlin”, Arthur stated, and somehow managed to let the name sound like an insult. Then Arthur relaxed back to the sheets.

“Okay, then”, Merlin said hopping from one foot to the other to absorb as much warmth as possible, “I'll be gone then.” However his quick, but half-heartedly escape to the cold corridor was interrupted when Arthur called him back.

“Merlin”, the prince said once again, the sound of his voice now more tired and not as insulting as before, “why are you here? In the middle of the night? It must be freezing out there in the...” Arthur cut himself short when the realisation hit him. “Oh”, he ended his sentence. Merlin blushed – or would have, if his face hadn’t been half frozen. At some, inconvenient occasions Arthur could be more sensitive than most people would give him credit for.

Merlin took a deep breath. “If I could... May I sleep in your room, please?” he stuttered then and forced himself to look Arthur straight in the eyes. Arthur looked at him for far too long before answering with only a slightly ironic undertone: “You may, Merlin.”

Merlin relaxed. Arthur went on, more edgy now: “But close the door, you prat.”

Merlin did, and then moved over to the fireplace. In front of it, a nice fluffy sheepskin covered the stony floor. Merlin sighed? relieved when his cold, barefoot feet sank into it. But Arthur wasn't finished.

“Come over here, Merlin”, Arthur muttered in a low voice, slightly irritated, lifting his blanket. Merlin stood, frozen literally and figuratively. Was that a joke?  
“Move”, Arthur commanded, very not jokingly. Merlin did move towards the bed, unthinkingly first, than with determination. The bed would be warm, and sleeping in the same bed as Arthur wasn't that repulsive at all.  
“Er, thank you?” he said, while adjusting himself to Arthur's bed and his blankets and Arthur. That was new. He liked it. And the bed was soft (he knew, because he had lain there when Arthur was away) and so warm. The shivering stopped completely, when he had adjusted himself to the sheets.

“Keep your cold feet away from mine” Arthur mumbled.  
“Sorry”, Merlin said and moved away from Arthur.

Merlin was half asleep, when he felt a sudden movement at his left side. Then Arthur's limbs and arms were comfortably tangled around his chest and legs. Merlin tried to move, once, because Arthur's former complaining of cold feet and that.  
“Still” hissed Arthur then, although he should be asleep. Merlin smiled – and lay still until the next morning .


End file.
